I stand amaz'd in the presence Of Jesus the Nazarene, And wonder how He could love me, A sinner, condemn'd, unclean.

For me it was in the garden He prayed "Not my will but Thine:" He had'no tears for his own griefs, But sweat drops of blood for mine.

In pity angels beheld Him, And came from the world of light To comfort Him in the sorrows He bore for my soul that night.

He took my sins and my sorrows, He made them His very own; He bore the burden to Calvary, And suffered, and died alone.

When with the ransomed in glory His face I at last shall see, 'Twill be my joy through the ages To sing of His love for me.